It's The Journey Not The Destination
by PurpleYin
Summary: Oneshot series for fics focused on Barry & Caitlin (friendship/preship and later UST), starting at 1x01. Chapter 4 up - set during 1x02, Caitlin has concerns but she starts to learn there are some causes worth taking risks for.
1. Ch1: preseries1x01 Cait - Something Else

**A/N:** This is going to be an open ended fic for Barry and Caitlin one shots that are around 1000 words each chapter (flashfics for The Flash, it amuses me) and I am aiming to work my way through writing at least one per episode - chapter names will indicate what episode they relate to.

Mostly they will be gen/friendship and canon compliant in terms of major events mentioned but likely to get into implied UST/feelings territory later on.

Not betaed sorry, don't have one for this fandom but if anyone can help me out there let me know.

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 **Chapter 1** \- preseries/1x01 - Caitlin POV - For Caitlin Snow, Barry Allen started off as a mystery and an annoyance. Content warning for grieving/depressed Caitlin.

* * *

 **Something Else**

* * *

After...Cisco was her lifeline; he reminded her to eat when she wasn't hungry, he coaxed her to go home at least _some_ of the time and occasionally dragged her out to Jitters or his own place for a movie. He couldn't make her feel better really, not when everything she'd worked for had gone up in flames along with the man she loved, but he tried his best and she tried not to make things worse for him. They'd both lost a lot when the particle accelerator had malfunctioned and they were more or less all each other had left, apart from working at the now disgraced S.T.A.R. Labs. So she went along with what he asked of her, she went through the motions of living, and in doing so he helped her survive the hardest months of her life.

Then Wells had brought them Barry Allen, a medical mystery - possibly of their making - presented to her like she should care to solve it. There had been a flicker of curiosity certainly but mostly she'd been annoyed that Wells expected her to actually care for him when she'd been struggling to look after herself in the aftermath of everything. Suddenly her priorities, and her job, were radically changed. They couldn't afford fulltime nursing, though at least she found someone for the night shift. Cisco organised remote access for the medical machines and alarms to go off should anything unusual happen, which happened an awful lot at first until they adjusted the equipment for his 'unique' stats. She taught Cisco some basics of nursing to lessen the load, and Joe and Iris helped out where they could when they visited.

Caitlin had to get used to the routine of it all. She knew it in theory but as a research scientist it had been a long time since medschool when she'd last had patients to look after, to be responsible for, and here she was suddenly on call pretty much 24/7. The days seemed longer now, she felt more exhausted with them full of work to do, actually eager to go home to her bed and able to easily succumb to sleep again. It still wasn't living, but it was more than just surviving; she had a purpose. She might not be doing it for herself but it got her up each morning and it gave her something to think about other than the things that could break her back down again. Cisco looked less worried about her watching her flit about between the cortex and the medbay. She liked that she wasn't as much of a burden for him thesedays. Busy was good. It kept her going.

Of course that only lasted so long before she found her world shaken up once more, again by Barry Allen. Awake, confused and hurrying out as soon as he could. Really he shouldn't have left, shouldn't have been _able_ to leave like that after 9 months in a coma, but he was. She could have insisted he stay but she wasn't sure he'd have listened to some random person who claimed to be a doctor in a private lab, rather than a hospital he might have expected to wake up in. He just wanted to get back to his life and she couldn't blame him, nor stop him short of sedating him without his consent.

At least he came back, which made Dr. Wells less irritated that Cisco and her had let him go in the first place. As she held a vial steady, moving her gaze from it filling with blood to look up at his face it felt strange to find him watching her. She'd become very familiar with his visage as he'd slept and it was odd to see him up and about, to see his curiosity about the tests she was running and the slight fear too that he didn't bother to hide. She'd learnt his features as he lay there blank, just like she'd felt herself, and now she saw them come to life, so full of expression. It was an unflattering contrast with how she schooled her own.

Part of her wanted to run with that enthusiasm he showed, longed to have someone to talk to about all her theories as she mulled the data over and over in her mind, but she didn't. He was her patient and he was still very much an unknown quantity, both in personality and in abilities. He could be dangerous so it made sense, for more than one reason, to keep her distance as much as feasible.

Despite her quietness his curiosity didn't seem to falter, he simply stopped asking questions, instead he irritatingly peered over her shoulder at results where he could and provided a running commentary of his own thoughts. Mostly it was statements of fact, about his observations, a strange one sided version of a conversation she was attempting not to have. It wasn't until the airfield that he finally said something to her directly that wasn't about the science, a different direction for his curiosity.

'I just noticed you don't smile too much.'

There was something about the way he watched her, waiting for her reply, that unnerved her. She wasn't used to people seeing _her_ anymore, as a person. She did her work, she bought groceries, she organised what was necessary, but she didn't engage in small talk, she closed herself off as much as possible and walked through her life as if invisible to the world. She wasn't used to anyone reaching out to her except for Cisco and Wells and they knew her well enough to know when to leave her alone. They knew her, so they didn't ask awkward questions or point out uselessly how she wasn't how she used to be, how people might expect her to be. She felt a flash of anger at this stranger who didn't know better and for once she didn't hold back what she wanted to say, everything falling out of her mouth the unfiltered story of the ruined life she'd been trying to live with for longer than she'd even known he existed.

'My once promising career in bioengineering is over, my boss is in a wheelchair for life, the explosion that put you in a coma also killed my fiance. So this blank expression kind of feels like the way to go.'

She almost regrets saying any of it, not because she was a bit rude like she might have expected to feel some remorse for, but because she'd unintentionally said more to him than she's said to her own mother about it all. She doesn't like losing control like that when she'd had every intention of remaining professional, detached. At least he wisely says nothing back, finally giving her the silence she'd prefered and wished for the whole afternoon.

She watches him do the impossible and then she watches him do the idiotic, crashing into barrels at a high enough velocity he had to have broken something. She supposes at this rate he's proving the need for her job as it stands, personal physician to one Barry Allen, whoever and whatever he is now he's faster than he has any right to be. There is a worry there too, because if so now she's _still_ needed, none of it over simply because he woke up, and she doesn't want to be needed when sometimes she still feels like she could fall apart.

Plus she's spent so long looking after him, ensuring he is taken care of, that she finds frustratingly she does care that he's hurt, in more than a peripheral way she ought to as a doctor. She doesn't know Barry Allen but she cares about the person she has watched over for more than half a year, and she doesn't want to. There's the anger flaring up again, the second time in less than five minutes. In truth it's more than she's felt in months, something other than the numbness that has protected herself from feeling, and she can't tell what to make of it.

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 **End note:** If you have any oneshot suggestions that you'd like to see that would fit with the canon/friendship/preship sort of focus of this series then do feel free to suggest either in a review or PM me. I can't promise inspiration will hit me for them but I'm happy to consider them. :)


	2. Ch2: 1x01 tag Cait POV - Something Lost

**A/N:** A shorter chapter but I felt like this works best as a self-contained coda to 1x01. At the end of 1x01 we see Caitlin pretty happy at the victory they have and yet by next episode she's very resistant to the idea of the heroing. So this is intended as something to convey why that is more broadly, though I do plan to write more about that for a 1x02 set chapter too.

 **Chapter 2** \- 1x01 tag - Caitlin POV - Caitlin worries for good reason. Content warning for grieving/depressed Caitlin. This be angsty.

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 **Something Lost**

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The smile she'd worn in the Cortex earlier is still teasing at the corners of her lips by the time she gets home. It makes her feel strangely light as she unlocks her door and pushes it open with a spring in her step. It is such a foreign feeling to her at the moment, though not unpleasant. They'd saved the day – her, Wells, Cisco, Barry. Mostly Barry ofcourse, but it had felt good to be a part of it. Caitlin Snow hasn't exactly been the type of person to save the day in the past. She'd always been prepared, yes; she'd been the one with spare pencils for exams, who carried a first aid kit in her bag and who on occasion in her student days had used her knowledge to stop someone doing something monumentally foolish. But this feeling, saving lives, she has not felt for quite some time and it takes her back to medschool in her memory.

Unfortunately that link is where everything comes crashing down in her mind, causing a twist in her gut as she remembers the converse feeling - of what it's like to lose a patient - and she flops onto the couch feeling defeated. The what if's suddenly plague her; what if Barry had got torn to shreds or flung across the farm fatally by the tornado. What if they'd had to go retrieve his body, to cover up what had happened, unable to let anyone else have access to Barry's unique physiology. She would have had to watch Joe sob over it, no longer stoic as he had been by Barry's side all those months. What if Joe had died too. What if the tornado had wreaked havoc on an unprepared Central City and another metahuman claimed his reign over the population. The weight of it all presses down on her and she finds it hard to breathe, having to modulate her intake carefully; counting, letting it out, desperately trying to blank her mind.

Death has intruded into her life a few too many times and left her that little bit more broken for each instance. She might not know Barry - she doubts she'd feel the loss of him much directly at this point, saddened as she would be she doesn't have much left to give over to mourning anymore - but she doesn't think she can bear to see what it would do to Joe, to Iris. She's already seen the spectre of their grief hanging over them as they waited patiently for the slightest possibility of him coming back to them.

She could only just bear seeing the looks on Ronnie's parents faces whenever she has visited them and she can't do that again, comfort the others left behind. Not when the scripted condolences you are meant to say, the words to use to stave it off and find strength, still seem just as empty and wretched to her ears as they would to Barry's family. She has no strength to lend anymore so she hopes she won't have to, that she won't have to show how weak she's become by finally breaking.

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 **End note:** For anyone wondering why she's more concerned about Joe and Iris than Barry right now - I feel like at this point when Barry has only just woken up she doesn't know him well enough to have an attachment as anything more than a patient really. Whereas she has had more of a relationship with Joe, which might be distant because it's a professional/medical one but is more substantial from the months sorting out Barry's care with him and keeping him updated on Barry's condition. Also, I feel like Caitlin would, rather painfully, identify with him and Iris as the ones who get left behind by the heroics much like she was with Ronnie.


	3. Ch 3: 1x02 Barry POV - Something Brittle

**A/N:** Set during 1x02, Barry has trouble figuring out this heroing thing. He also has trouble figuring Caitlin out.

This ended up way over the 1000 words I have been aiming for with these chapters but hopefully that's not unwelcome, especially as it's the first chapter that is a Barry POV. A fair bit of Barry and Caitlin interaction here, filling in how he felt about the canon scenes, but also plenty on how Barry is feeling about things more generally in the episode and some Barry and Joe focus too.

Big thanks to shyesplease for betareading.

* * *

He's riding the biggest high he's ever experienced in his life. Today _is_ the best day of his life. Better even than yesterday. He just saved three people from a burning building, all before breakfast. Everything is great, he's ready to take on the world practically, until he hears her voice.

"Barry, it's Caitlin."

Suddenly it feels like he's been caught doing something wrong. It's the sharp tone to her blunt words. He doesn't know her very well at all yet, but he could tell from what Cisco didn't say when they discussed this little venture of theirs that she probably wasn't going to approve of their desire to simultaneously roadtest the suit and help the helpless in Central City.

"Hey, Caitlin," he winces at how awkward his words come out. He was aiming for casual, like it's no big deal to be on the other end of a microphone talking to Cisco about how everything was just on fire and him basically asking for Cisco to find more danger to run straight into. "How's your day?" he continues, hoping maybe he'd distract her with pleasantries and ease into the conversation that way, using charm to soften the blow of doing this behind her back.

Caitlin doesn't bother with niceties herself. "Get back to S.T.A.R. Labs. Now."

He instantly realises what a bad idea it was to not at least give her a heads up. He probably wouldn't have been happy if he'd been in her position. But he knows exactly why they didn't and has a feeling he is about to get an earful he'd hoped he could avoid.

"On my way," he replies, not bothering to argue because he has a feeling there's going to be some happening once he gets back and none of it is a conversation to have in public.

The world spins for a few moments as he tries to speed up. He has to close his eyes to fight the wave of dizziness, and a pulsing in his head hits him, but it passes. He's okay. More tired from the heroics than he might have expected but he knows he'll be good soon; it never lasts long.

* * *

Predictably, Caitlin is not onboard with the plan. Other than that likelihood turning out to be true, Barry has generally found it hard these last two weeks trying to figure out how to react to her. Caitlin gives off an aura of annoyance, one that he doesn't know where it's come from and he feels he's a little underserving of, except for right now. Cisco is becoming a friend, however, Caitlin is still unknown.

He's been tiptoeing around her when he's come in for more tests, wanting to get to know her but being careful with what he says or asks. He's aware there are plenty of sensitive topics to avoid and he doesn't want to put another foot wrong with her, like he had at the airfield that first day.

Cisco is so radically different in comparsion; easy, amiable and, importantly for around here, forgiving of questions that bring up difficult and painful answers. The only reason Barry has any idea about the more specifics of what happened to S.T.A.R. Labs after the accident is from the snatches of conversation him and Cisco have when Caitlin isn't nearby and possibly listening. He's still sort of surprised they'd managed to keep their ruse up for almost a week without her overhearing anything to tip her off before.

"You can't be running around the city like some supersonic fireman."

He tries to remain level headed, even as he feels frustrated at the turn the conversation is taking. He knows Caitlin wants to help people, just like him. They're on the same team, at least he thinks so, based on what she'd said before.

"Why not? This is what we talked about. Me using my speed to do good."

But it doesn't feel like Caitlin is listening to him. He can see her ire is ramping up as she points out how technically he was meant to help with metahumans, who they haven't seen any more of since Clyde Mardon. Does she really think he'd sit around waiting for another unlikely crisis when he has this amazing gift? Much more mundane things happen all the time that he _knows_ he can do something about, and he wants to.

"People in the city still need help. And I can help them."

"We can help them," Cisco chimes supportively from his side, but Caitlin is looking behind Barry, for her own support in the form of Wells who has wheeled in.

Barry tries to appeal to Wells' sense of discovery, but Wells isn't won over any more than Caitlin. Restraint and caution, know your limits - that's what they preach to him as if he is overreaching. They don't understand that he needs to run and to see what he's capable of. He can't know his limits if he doesn't test them first.

He expected resistance but he doesn't expect what comes out of Caitlin's mouth next, her parting shot and the accompanying displeasure shown as she speaks it. "Don't expect me to patch you up every time you break something."

The sentiment is as far from anything he'd expect a doctor to utter as he can imagine, and it's in that moment that he realises he really doesn't understand Caitlin Snow at all.

He's still contemplating this turn of events when Cisco quizzes him on how he's feeling. With the irritated doctor standing in the background and within earshot, he doesn't exactly want to admit that he isn't 100% peachy. Luckily he's saved from that conversation by his phone.

* * *

Going back to S.T.A.R. Labs and admitting to having dizzy spells was his least favourite conversation to have but it seems to be a day for conversations he doesn't want to have. He does feel bad about hiding it; he understands Caitlin's concern. It _is_ exactly the sort of thing she should be told but he wasn't keen to admit to something that meant yet more investigation of his 'unique physiology'. He's missed too much of his life already and he's frustrated at how many tests they expect him to undergo in the name of science. He'd just hoped it was nothing, or something he could put off a little longer. However, his luck has run out several times today.

Caitlin paces as she theorises and rants at him at the same time. Wells just watches, not intervening – it doesn't appear anyone likes to cross an irate Caitlin. Cisco keeps out of it too, quietly looking over the telemetry from the suit through the lens of this new datapoint. Words keep falling out her mouth, she's barely taking time to breath, until she hits one he actually doesn't know, his confused expression stopping her. He glances to Wells, who explains she means a ministroke and dampens down his fear by pointing out, "Probably not."

"You of all people should know that in science, we share. We do not keep secrets."

She walks off, not even letting him apologise, though he isn't sure what he could say. He can tell well enough that she's disappointed in him, which is not a feeling Barry experiences much – he's good at his job and people usually seem to like him well enough. Only Singh tends to bring that emotion up for him, and Barry can temper that with his own annoyance at being asked to do too much and rarely appreciated by the captain.

"Wow, I haven't seen anyone make her that angry since Ronnie," Cisco says in surprise.

Barry is surprised to hear that himself, not least because Cisco has only mentioned Ronnie a couple of times. Each time it had seemed to be by accident; he would look around carefully like it was a mistep he was afraid of being caught out on, clearly worried about how Caitlin would react. In both cases, the conversation had petered out a little afterwards, Cisco withdrawing into himself. Barry hadn't liked to push the issue further before, but following that comment he feels he needs a little more context.

"Ronnie was Caitlin's fiance? The one that died the night of the accelerator explosion? "

"Yeah. He is...missed."

His head is still woozy but it doesn't take long for the meaning to sink in. Barry suddenly has a better handle on what it is Caitlin's afraid of - that another person will die on her watch, die trying to be a hero; that she won't be able to save him and will relive, in part, the worst thing that happened to her. He feels like he should have put it together sooner – he's observed how she is when he comes in for tests, how she acts like she is going through a mental checklist even when she doesn't have an actual one to fillout. Caitlin is organized to the extreme, everything she can do to control her environment. His not telling her he was going out there had put the situation one step further out of her reach and out of her control. He resolves to do as he's told, within reason, whilst they figure out what's wrong – it's the least he can do. It's conveniently also the path of least resistance; he doesn't exactly have a lot of fight left in him at the moment.

* * *

He wakes up to an almost cheerful Caitlin, who isn't at all put off by his grogginess. She seems in her element, explaining why he passed out. And whilst he's glad for an answer, he doesn't feel so excited about the not so good news of how much he needs to eat now. As they fuss over his diet, he wonders how much it's all gonna cost him exactly?

Then Joe chooses to poke his nose in. It's really _not_ Barry's day. There's altogether too many conversations he doesn't want happening, happening. Too many secrets coming out all at once. He feels ganged up on as Joe questions his intent to do good with his powers, a feeling only made more acute when Caitlin agrees with Joe. No one is sticking up for him, even Wells is half-hearted in his addition to the conversation, and Barry _still_ has a throbbing headache.

In retrospect, he'll be able to see he's more than a little hangry (not exactly in a position to make good judgement calls) but in the moment he latches onto the thought of how he can do the impossible - just like the man in yellow that night - and how Joe has _never_ believed in him. His anger boils up, letting years of resentment find an outlet in what feels a righteous accusation.

He knows how close the words "You're not my father" will cut Joe, and right now he wants Joe to feel that sting. A sting hopefully similar to the one Barry felt every time Joe looked at him with pity for believing in his father. It isn't even enough for all the times it happened, but it's satisfying to see his face fall, before it resets in an expression that indicates he might just have realised the key to the puzzle that's been sitting in front of him for too long – how much hurt the world, including Joe, has caused Barry for thinking he's too naive or misguided, instead of being the only one with the truth.

"You were wrong about him. And you're wrong about this. Now, I may not be able to help him, but if I can save someone from a burning building or stop some armed thieves, I'm gonna do it. And you can't stop me. So don't try."

The rest of Joe's words don't touch him or his anger. He doesn't just have powers now, he has purpose - this is what he is meant to do.

* * *

The next day, no one seems to be happy with him. He tries bribing those at S.T.A.R. Labs with donuts but gets no good response from anyone except Cisco, who digs right in. Things aren't right between him and Joe, but that doesn't deter him from doing what he'd decided to do when he hears Joe is in danger. When Joe won't listen, he simply moves him. His speed is his advantage, his way to get what needs doing done before anyone can stop him.

But then it gets out of control. Black surrounds him and he's taking the worst beating of his life. High school has nothing on this, _and_ he almost gets shot. Breathless, resting against a fence outside, it dawns on him that this is the first time he's truly felt in danger, worried he might not be able to run away. The certainty he'd felt only minutes before drops away. What if he isn't good enough to do this? What if speed isn't enough to make him good enough?

* * *

It only takes one look when he returns, limping a touch too, and Caitlin is all business despite her protest the day before. She goes into doctor mode, with a side of barely hidden research scientist peeking through in how she questions him. She's clearly curious at how he's healing, keen to get a good look at how that works, so thankfully he can avoid an 'I told you so'. Cisco is less tactful about the blood on the suit.

As they go over the info on Danton Black, what annoys Barry more than anything is how another meta - a scientist no less - is using his powers to hurt, not help. What is so wrong with people that he's the only one trying to do right? _Trying_ being the operative word. Why did he think he could do this when everyone was pointing out how stupid an idea it was?

When Caitlin asks "Where are you going?" as he tries to slink off without further discussion, he senses that for once she does care. Maybe it took him getting his ass handed to him to before she would let it show, but then he supposes her anger with him was never indifference, just not the type of caring he expected.

He looks to her, to Wells, with a look of defeat. Joe was right. Caitlin was right. Only one of those he feels like admitting and that's hard enough. He really doesn't want to trigger another conversation with her and risk actually getting that 'I told you so', he's in no mood to have it rubbed in.

"Joe was right. I'm in way over my head. Yeah, I'm fast, but I am no warrior," his pride deflates as he says it, but he feels it deep in his bones now - he was wrong. "Man, I could barely fight one metahuman, let alone six."

"Barry, I understand. Today was a setback. But any grand enterprise has them. And we can never learn to fly without crashing a few times."

The room is ripe with confusion. He doesn't understand why Wells is pushing him to go for it when he'd advised caution previously. They look confused that he's giving up. He expected them to be happy. It doesn't change anything though.

"This wasn't a grand enterprise, Dr. Wells. This was a mistake."

* * *

His life doesn't make much sense to him currently. All of a sudden, he knows without a doubt, the impossible is possible after all. He has impossible powers, but no one seems to agree with him on whether he should or shoudn't use them. He doesn't know how he should feel about anything, except that Iris is a constant in his life and he needs to make up for his flakiness with her, be a better friend.

Which is why he's all the more annoyed when his attempt to make things right with her, get back some normality, is interrupted by S.T.A.R. Labs ringing him.

"Look, I told you I'm through-"

"I know, but you need to get to S.T.A.R. Labs right now."

Caitlin is the last person he would have thought would be calling him. She'd been so against him doing what he tried to do. Surely she wouldn't try to guilt him into returning? But she sounds insistent and possibly...afraid? He could pick out her tones for irritated, angry and indifferent, but he's pretty unfamiliar with what fear could sound like for her and if there's any chance that is the case he can't let it go.

He fumbles an excuse to Iris about a work emergency and then he's over there in a shot, finding himself scared to be staring at the guy who beat him almost senseless not too long ago. His panic is rather incongruous to Caitlin in the background, declaring it's okay.

"It is **not** okay. Black is here," Black who is...staring blankly at him? Now Barry is confused, "...and he's just standing there. That's not him, is it?" He feels a surge of relief there will be no repeat of the last fight. He's fine, it _is_ okay.

"It's one of his replicates," she replies, and he senses a bit of delight about that.

"How did you get it?"

When Caitlin says "I grew him," followed with what might be a slight swell of pride in her voice, and a smile on her face, it's one of the few times she's not been either blank or angry in the last few weeks. He pokes at the clone body as she explains the science excitedly.

It turns out Caitlin paces just as much when excited as she does when angry, eventually finding her way back over to the clone as she posits her theory on the potential weakness Black has. "Shut down the real Black, and you might shut them all down."

Barry stares at the passive, empty shell infront of him, wondering if this actually changes anything. If he only has to defeat one guy he might stand a chance. But that still depends on working out who he needs to aim for, and he doesn't see how knowing the others are all receivers helps him figure out which one is transmitting to the clones.

"But how do we know which one's the real Danton Black?" he asks.

"That occurred to me given your own passing out. Black has limits, just like you. Controlling all of those clones must require a tremendous amount of physical strength. So, look for the one showing signs of weakness or fatigue. He's the prime."

Caitlin looks almost gleeful as she fields the question, able to give him a decent strategy to work with, one that Wells also seems to think is reasonable enough to give a go. However, Barry's not ready to let himself feel hopeful just yet, not considering how it went last time.

Something does feel different though, between Caitlin's geeking out and Cisco enthusiastically pressing high calorie protein bars into his hand - ones specially designed to nip his glucose issue in the bud. He gets a sense of what having them all behind him is like; what it would be like working together instead of at odds. Suddenly they are all on his side and it feels good. Everyone but Joe...

Things are going well. Apparently too well, because things descend into Caitlin screaming and bullets flying. It's over quicker than he'd known to respond, freezing up in the moment, but Joe of all people is there, gun drawn, showing he's still looking out for him.

Joe is there telling him he believes in him too. It's all changing so fast and it baffles him how they were all so against him and now it's the exact opposite. But he does want this, so Barry goes with the flow – he runs because it feels so right to. He goes to save the day and hopes desperately he really can.

* * *

Black is everywhere - a one man army. Copies spill out from somewhere in the crowd, and Barry wants nothing more than to run far away. How many punches can he take realistically? He's fast but there's _so_ many of them.

Caitlin and Wells are calm on the other end of the comms, and a little patronizing, making it sound like it should be so easy to implement the plan, but at least Joe is encouraging.

"Nothing's impossible, Barry. You taught me that. You can do this."

It means all the more coming from Joe. The whole time he'd lived with him, been raised by him, there had been that divide between them caused by Joe's inabilty to accept the impossible. He doesn't entirely blame him, but it had been there nevertheless, an invisible emotional barrier. One that sometimes made even Barry doubt himself because he learnt to trust Joe and Joe was so sure of his convictions. It made him feel awful to doubt his dad - twisted him inside - and so he rejected the notion, rejected what Joe said, feeling his trust in Joe wane a little each time. That doubt is gone now. Joe believes in him and finally he can trust Joe in return - 100%. He can do this.

There's a moment of euphoria when he spies the original Danton, and a plan forms to take him out, but things don't go precisely to plan. At the end of it, Barry is left looking below the building, through the broken window, dismayed at the body of the man he couldn't save tonight. One out of two isn't good enough for him. Danton didn't deserve to die for his crimes.

* * *

Doctor Wells tries to buoy his spirits when he returns, which means something to Barry, but doesn't actually assuage his guilt. He knows he did his best tonight, and it wasn't quite good enough, but he's going to get better at this because he's not doing this alone.

"I may be the one in the suit doing all the running, but when I'm out there helping people, making a difference, you're all out there with me. Finally realized something: we were all struck by that lightning."

Cisco looks contemplative for a moment before breaking into a shy smile. Dr. Wells shows a hint of one too, a miniscle quirk of his lips. Out of the corner of his eye, he spies Caitlin looking satisfied as well and it makes a change. Her not being annoyed with or ignoring him is definite progress.

Later when it's Caitlin on the mic, giving him instructions to a carhijacking - a complete turnaround he wouldn't have hoped for when he'd gotten up that morning – he feels again that sense of relief, of how much better it is to have people behind him. And maybe, now she's absolutely on his side, one of these days he will get to understanding her better too.


	4. Ch 4: 1x02 Cait POV - Something Sparking

**A/N:** As usual, thanks go to shyesplease for betareading and helping add some clarity to parts of it that needed it.

* * *

For two weeks, Caitlin lowkey worries about Barry Allen day and night. She doesn't want to, she should have better things to do, but she can't stop the multitide of questions that run through her head demanding answers she hasn't gotten her hands on, despite all the tests so far. Or more precisely, she worries about what they don't know, how they are not at all prepared for his, or any other metahumans', powers. The only thing that comes remotely close to alleviating that worry is her and Cisco brainstorming about what archetypes they might encounter. They know anyone who can slow him down, either thermally or metabolically, will be a big problem, but they don't have a clue what they can do about either possibility.

So Caitlin spends two weeks feeling a little sick in her stomach at not being prepared, only to find that feeling dwarfed by the knowledge of how much less prepared she is because they lied to her. Barry has been running into burning buildings without a care in the world and Cisco has been happily aiding and abetting his vigilantism.

In the silence of the lab, waiting for Barry to return - Cisco not even bothering to attempt to explain any of it - her head speeds through a list of the things she might have needed if he had gotten burned, things she knows they don't have and now it seems they ought to stock. Except Barry isn't meant to be a supersonic fireman and that's exactly what she drums home once he's standing in front of her.

Not that it does any good. Neither her or Wells get through to him. Right in that moment, she hates the feeling Barry inspires in her, that she has to feel anything at all, let alone worry about someone's intent to be so foolishly hopeful. She's quickly learning that Barry is not a realist and it doesn't seem he appreciates her outlook on any of what is happening, which frustrates her to no end. Perhaps that's why "Don't expect me to patch you up every time you break something." slips out before she can think much of it.

The instant it's out of her mouth she feels pretty awful, but she doesn't dare back down, immediately walking away before she can change her mind. She knows when push comes to shove, she _will_ help him but **he** doesn't have to know that; it might be better to let him think she won't. Maybe then he won't go running recklessly toward danger if he thinks she won't help pick up the pieces afterwards.

Part of her thinks he's brave, wants him to do some good with his gifts. It's definitely better than what others, like Mardon, want to use theirs for. The problem is that there's a far larger part of her – a part so closely tied to instinct, to reacting in an instant - that knows categorically how dangerous playing hero can be and that's the part that keeps taking control of her mouth against her better judgment.

She shouldn't let it get to her, shouldn't let Barry Allen keep getting to her. It shouldn't matter if he chooses to be a fool and get himself killed. That _is_ his choice. Yet she thinks of Joe, of Iris, of Doctor Wells' hope for figuring out Barry's healing; of everything they could learn from him, _with him_ if he would just let them instead of constantly running off. He's meant to be a scientist, of a sort, surely he should understand how big this is, bigger than him or his need to play a hero that she isn't sure the city needs.

* * *

"You lied to us. How could you not tell us you're experiencing dizzy spells?"

For the second time in one day, Caitlin is fuming at one Barry Allen and yet another secret he has been keeping. This time it was kept from the whole of S.T.A.R. Labs, not that that fact eases the sting of being kept out of the loop once more. She's his doctor, but he doesn't appear to trust her, and she simply can't help him if he isn't willing to cooperate. Any scrap of information witheld might be vital; they just don't know when it comes to his body.

Her mind is in overdrive, flitting through the myriad options of what could be wrong, which comes out unfiltered and in rapid succession. She barely gives a damn about how worried he looks in return. Let him see how bad it could have been. She wants him to realise the gravity of the situation. She needs him to take this seriously, instead of casually like he has so far. Again, she finds herself storming off in order to go calm down, far away from him. At least this time she has work to do to to distract her, compiling a thorough checklist of tests she can focus on.

When they have a cause identified, that preoccupies her even more. Everything is helped infinitely by him being unconscious post the treadmill test. She can be professional so long as she doesn't have to look at his face and resist telling him off. As she goes over the data with Cisco and Wells, getting a clearer picture of the problem, she's relieved to realise she doesn't want to berate him too much anymore, especially when he'll probably wake up feeling awful as it is. The blackouts themselves sounded unpleasant and seem almost a kind of karmic payback for keeping the secret perhaps. They will figure out a longer term solution to his needs, but in the meantime they'll prop him up with the IV bags. It's a pretty significant breakthrough in their understanding of his physiology: another trajectory to come at it from is exciting for her, though Barry looks only annoyed when she explains.

What excitement she'd felt deflates when Joe West turns up, accusing them of not being smart enough, not being informed enough, and intimating that will get someone killed.

"You don't know what you don't know."

Joe's words hit her hard and the sentiment sits badly with her well after he's left, because he's right. It's what she has worried about herself for weeks, what she wants to prevent but how can she when no one is taking it seriously. Not Barry and not Cisco. Even her and Wells being onboard with Barry helping _only_ against other metahumans is a risk, one they're willing to accept for the benefit, where as Joe isn't.

It's then that she feels awful for deeming that scenario more important, conveniently the scenario that is one of the few ways they can make up for the mistake they've made here with the particle accelerator. But it doesn't matter what _she_ prioritises, she hears Barry say he'll do it anyway. They can't stop him. She can't stop him. The least harm she can do, if she can't change his mind, is being resigned to helping him, the same as Dr Wells and Cisco.

So when Barry comes limping back sheepishly, very thoroughly beaten up, of course she reneges on her earlier threat and treats his wounds. It doesn't help that she's sort of fascinated by watching him heal, even as she feels guilty since it's only possible when he's hurt. She doesn't want him in danger, but it _does_ present a unique opportunity. There's the thrill awakening inside her again, at the _possibilities_ this presents. But Barry isn't research, he's a person. She tries to temper her curiousity with the concern for him that isn't hard to pull back up from before, though she pointedly doesn't say I told you so. What she doesn't expect is for him to give up so easily in the face of this defeat. She doesn't expect to feel disappointment in amongst the relief.

She also doesn't entirely expect to be able to grow an entire clone of Danton Black. It's strange to be calling Barry back to the labs for a crash course in Black's weakness and to find him being the one who is faltering. The Barry she knows - not that she knows him that well so far - has always been hopeful, and stubborn, with a clear goal ahead of him, even if that goal has often been to get the tests over and done with as fast as possible. This uncertainy isn't a side of his personality they've seen previously.

Joe is the person who gets through Barry's haze of doubt, who convinces him to get back out there and take Black on. And for all her and Dr Wells talk through the facts with Barry over the comms, with the aim of reminding him of his goal, Joe is also the person who manages to get Barry to believe in himself again, to believe in what he's trying to do. _What we're trying to do,_ she thinks, because she realizes they have to support him. No one can do this alone and Barry probably would die trying. She just hopes he doesn't die today, they need that hope – of a better city - to stay alive with him.

They wait with bated breath, the atmosphere tense until Joe breaks the silence to ask Barry if he's alright, worry clear in his voice, in his repetition of Barry's name at no immediate reply.

"I'm fine," Barry says finally, with a huff of breath from his exertion, before he reconfirms it. "I'm fine. It's done."

Caitlin looks around to the relieved faces, feeling a heady mix of emotions. The remnant of fear fused with culmination of their victory. She feels like they can do this. She feels like she **wants** to do this. It's a strange epiphany for her, but she knows from Barry's words later – _You're all out there with me...we were all struck by that lightning_ \- and Cisco's reaction to them, that she is not the only one feeling it. They can do this together. They can make things better. And none of them have to do it alone.

* * *

"Barry, an armored car was just hijacked on Griffin Avenue. Get your ass over there."

As she directs Barry to yet another crime scene, there's still a worry that knaws at her and feeds into her deepest fears, a worry about what being a hero will entail and what cost it might come at, but she has a goal now too.

Importantly, she has a distraction from the worry as well with that. She's drawn up a comprehensive plan and taken stock of her supplies. She knows she'll need items to treat burns at the very least if Barry is going to continue to leap to the rescue where firefighters normally do, and for surgery in the worst case. She has to get prepared, ready for anything. In the meantime, she'll do everything she can, everything to the best of her ability, human as it is.

And because Caitlin Snow has always been somewhat of an overachiever, she figures it can't hurt to to learn the police dispatch codes. For efficiency's sake of course - she isn't entirely ready to admit she finds it fun, though she's still smiling anyway.


End file.
